The Will to Face a Friend
by Texcatlipoka
Summary: Zack's changed in six months: gangs, smoking and worst of all, fights. Cody doesn't like it, no one really does. But Cody's the only one with any hope of changing his brother's ways. Rated for mild language, violence and others. Story is now complete
1. As it is

**Ok, I think this is my third fanfic. I'm really hoping you'll read it and review it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, or make any money by displaying this fanfiction. **

Stepping in close, Zack Martin delivered two more blows to the fifteen-year-old's face.

There was a sickening crunch of bone and his opponent dropped to the hard earth. Ragged cheers erupted from the surrounding crowd on the finishing blow.

Zack took a final look at his floored opponent, regarding him with mild contempt, then turned and pushed his way through the crowd.

Cody, who had been waiting on a bench outside the ring of onlookers, immediately came beside him and handed him a cloth. Zack dabbed the cut on his eyebrow- the dull throb it had emitted during the fight was becoming the familiar, sharp ache.

"I still don't understand why you insist on waiting outside the crowd. Everyone here thinks you're a wimp." Before Cody could answer he turned and spat blood on the ground.

"_That's _why Zack! I can't watch people hurt each-other like that!" Cody looked disgusted by the concept.

Zack groaned. His brother always became annoyingly temperamental about this subject.

"Then why do you still come?"

"I'm your brother!"

"So?"

Cody snapped his mouth shut, lost for words. There was a moment of heady silence, except for the distant cries of the crowds as another fight began, and their own footfalls in the damp, deserted railway tunnel.

Then, "Did you bring any fags?"

"No." Cody said, looking disgusted "We're not old enough."

"So what," Zack complained, "they don't _ask_ your age in the shop. I've tried it." He let out an exaggerated sigh, "You're _so_ useless." He gave his brother a punitive slap on the head.

Someone passed them. Zack elbowed him in the arm lightly, enough to make him turn.

"Got any cigarettes?"

"Sure."

Obviously recognising him, the boy handed him one from a deep pocket in his coat and held a lighter to it.

"Thanks."

The twins walked on again. Zack busied himself with blowing on his cigarette and idly trying to read the endless layers of graffiti on the walls.

"Zack, why do we have to keep doing this? I hate coming down here."

Zack slapped him on the head again. "I'll say!" He breathed smoke into Cody's face. "Look, no-one asked you to come, you're obviously too puny for it; but you're not stopping me."

"But what if you get caught?-"

"I won't get caught, damn it! The police wouldn't check these abandoned tunnels without a SWAT team and military support."

Cody dropped his head in conceit "I still don't like it though..."

Zack groaned in aggravation and slapped his brother for the third time.

After a few more minutes, they came to a splintered door painted green. The word "penis" was written on it in block capitals.

Zack took a final buff of his cigarette, then dropped the butt and crushed it into the ground.

He turned to his brother, "ok, do I look like I've been in a fight?"

Cody looked at his brother's face. The cut on his eyebrow had only recently closed, and there were several purple marks up and down his jaw. He still had scars from previous fights.

Zack straightened without waiting for an answer. "I'll just tell mom I fell off my bike again. She'll buy anything I tell her."

Cody deemed it prudent not to make any sarcastic remarks; his head was still aching a little. At the back of his mind, he wondered if their mom had become afraid of her oldest twin over the last six months.

He came to his senses as Zack pushed the stiff door open, and hurried into the crowds of the Boston subway...

**End of Chapter 1 **

**Yeh, so that's the end of the first chapter. I'm assuming there's a subway system in Boston. If there isn't, there is now... **

**Same as always, read and review please! **


	2. Intentions

**Okay, this is chapter two.**

**Just to note, I'm British so I'm going to be using British spellings and words. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, or make any money by displaying this fanfiction. **

As it had been for six months now, Carey Martin felt a sickening lurch of her stomach as she pushed open the door to their sweet. It was a feeling brought about by change.

The change in Zack. He was lounging on the sofa as she came in; Cody was standing up nearby looking as though he'd just got out of a headlock. Six months could change so much. He had lost a lot of weight; God knew how; and had also overtaken his brother by two and a half inches. Worst of all, he had mysterious cuts and bruises on his face. She couldn't remember him without them.

And, admittedly, he intimidated her. He had that dark feeling around him- a prickly aura that said clearly: "I'm not afraid to hit you, whoever you are". It scared her. It scared her very much.

Still, she forced herself to adopt a warm smile. "Hey kids, how was school?"

"Fine." Zack replied curtly. She was fairly sure he hadn't been. Cody neither.

She stepped through the threshold and put her handbag down on the table

"Mum." Cody spoke up abruptly. His eyes were red. "Zack stole my allowance money."

Carey caught Zack's warning glance- Cody's eyes averted- but he was up before she could say anything.

"I didn't _steal_ it, I borrowed it. I'll pay it back. I always give payback." He growled, his voice menacingly calm.

His burning eyes flickered to Cody's bowed head momentarily, then he spun on his heel and walked away from her- a deliberate gesture of contempt- into the bedroom.

Cody was devastated. Not a fleeting devastated, like when a pet dies or a girlfriend breaks up with you, but a permanent, heavy feeling in his gut which he had lived with for six months. And it showed no sign of improvement- he had insisted on going with Zack to "the arena" during the day. He had skipped many days of school as a result, and his grades were steadily slipping.

Ultimately, he lived like a reproached servant in his brother's towering shadow. By God, what could he do about it?

Carey nervously knocked: on her own son's bedroom. It was 9:40. Cody was brushing his teeth, and Carey wanted her chance to get Zack alone. Then what? She hadn't quite decided.

"Come in."

She opened the door. Zack lay on his bed, fully dressed, his hand buried in a crisp packet. He neglected to even look up as she entered.

"Zack? Zack I'm worried about you." She winced. She hadn't intended to phrase it like that.

No answer.

"C'mon Zack, talk to me! You've never pushed me away like this before!"

Still nothing.

"For God's sake Zack, this is ridiculous. We can't go on like this!"

There was movement. Slowly, painfully slowly, he crushed the empty packet in his hands and threw it out the window. Then he eased himself up. Their eyes met. And he was angry. The emotion was like a heated light beam through a magnifying glass. He took a step forward. She stepped back.

His voice was even, but lethal.

"Carey Martin. You think you know us. You think you got us all figured out. But you _don't. _You don't know shit about me. You never have and I don't need you interfering in _my life!_ So just back off for once!"

The moment was succeeded by an icy silence. Then, not even believing her own actions, she slipped the door open from behind and staggered out the room.

Cody had always spent a long time on his teeth. Not because he was a nerd, because he cared for his teeth. Zack had always teased him about that, up until the fights began. He never teased now. But somehow, the void between them had grown infinitely larger.

Five minutes later, he opened their bedroom door (noting that it was slightly ajar), and stepped inside. It was pitch black.

Zack must be asleep, he thought, so he left the light off and groped his way to his own bed. Kicking off his slippers, he slipped under he covers.

Silence, darkness and stillness were the worst combination that Cody had ever known, because it made him _think. _Not about maths questions, or the capital of Burma, or anything like that, but about the most important thing of all: _who am I becoming_.

Zack had dug himself a deep, deep hole; and he had dragged Cody into it too.

He could feel the tears coming at the very thought. He hated crying. He couldn't remember Zack ever crying. Maybe he was just the weaker twin.

"Zack," he whispered, just seeking a way to break the morbid silence, "Zack, are you sure you're okay with this?"

No answer. But Zack often ignored him, just to be annoying.

"Zack," he said again, "Zack are you there?"

Still no answer.

Suddenly cautious, Cody got up and flicked the light switch. In the sudden brightness, one thing became clear; Zack was nowhere to be seen.

Zack was glad to be out of the hotel. It had felt increasingly claustrophobic recently, with so many eyes and walls all around him. Especially Carey's. He had felt sorry for her at first, but by now he knew her for what she really was: a nuisance. He wisely ignored her advice.

He was infront of the large, wrought iron gates of the Old Yew House. The building was deserted, but hadn't been demolished- a heritage site or some such nonsense- so it made the perfect getaway; for people like him.

In a dozen heartbeats, he had climbed the fence and dropped the seven feet to the ground on the other side.

He moved quickly for the rusty red brick of the west wall.

The straps beneath his shirt rubbed as he did so- holster straps.

It was one of the few things not even Cody knew about. For six months, he had carried with him a stolen gun, fully loaded with ten shots.

But, even more secret, was his hope hat he would never be called to use it. He had proved he was a fighter. Could he become a killer as well?

He had reached the ivy frame perched on the south side. A window frame, the glass long ago shattered, was just to the side.

In as many moments as before, he had climbed the frame and eased through the window to stand on the rotten floorboard of the second floor. There were two others there, seated on old chests: one, a stocky ginger-haired boy his own age, he recognised as being called John, the second he did not know.

"Hey." They exchanged brief greetings as he sat down.

Delving into his jacket, he pulled out his cigarette case and handed some around.

"So, how do the fights go?" asked John, handed him a can of beer.

"The same," he replied as he broke the seal, "I always win."

"Naturally," John replied. The other boy, whose name turned out to be Chris and was new to their "circle", smirked. His curly blond hair and ugly smile was already starting to annoy Zack.

"So," said John, suddenly serious, "what are you going to do about the brother." Zack sighed. This was a continually raised dilemma.

"He's clearly not tough enough to keep coming," John continued between puffing his cigarette. He leaned back conclusively, "you'll just have to get rid of him. Any idea how?"

"God only knows."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Zack broke it,

"You found any more good opponents?"

"No, 'fraid not. After six months of watching you kick people's heads in, suddenly no-one seems to want to fight you."

"That's really no problem. I've got one in mind, and I'm fairly sure _he_ won't back out."

"Who is it, then."

"The best, John. The big guy himself," he let the atmosphere hold for a split second. "I'm going after Drew.

**End of Chapter 2**

**Second chapter complete! Sorry to say I can't always update this frequently, because my school's got me loaded down with homework. But I'm not forgetting about this one... **

**R &R.**


	3. Plans and challenges

**Chapter 3, and nothing really to say, apart from that the storyline doesn't get any nicer from here. **

**Oh yeah, and could you readers out there please try and review for each chapter- Just a few words so I know you're still reading. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, or make any money by displaying this fanfiction. **

"Zack! What are you doing with that ruler?!"

"Same as what you're teaching us, _sir. _Nothing."

"That's the last straw Zack. Detention after school."

"Whatever."

Ten minutes later, Cody joined up with his brother in the corridor. Zack was flipping through his textbook. Selecting a page on gene modification, he tore it out and screwed it into a ball. He was about to throw it at the passing Mr Smith when Cody intervened.

"Hey Zack," he said rather clumsily. He tried to think of something else to say. "So, are you going to that detention you got tonight."?

"Well what do you think?"

"No?"

"_Thank-you,_ genius."

Reaching up, he made to smack Cody's head again. He shrank back instinctively, and Zack laughed.

Both Chris and John had brought sleeping bags with them to Old Yew house, and neither had any intention of attending school- especially then, for they had more important things to consider.

Chris opened his bag and handed out cigarettes: three each. They sat by the smashed window in thoughtful, concentrated silence.

Finally, Chris spoke: "We've got to get rid of Cody."

"What?" As if he didn't already know the answer.

"Zack's a good fighter- a really good one. But his brother is holding him back."

John leaned in, "and how do you propose we do that?"

Chris gave a cunning smile. "It'll be easy," he said, "Zack's got hard fists but no brain. He couldn't expect a trick unless he'd set it up himself."

"Cody won't be so easy to fool though. He's a smart kid."

"Not in this circle. He's fiercely loyal to his brother, and that makes him very vulnerable." He ran his fingers through his curly hair. "I've got the perfect plan."

There was a moment's stillness. John was fully aware that Chris was not going to his impart his plan on him, but he didn't blame him: Chris' ideas were nuggets of gold.

He took a final blow on his cigarette and threw the butt out the window.

One question nagged him. "How did you do it Chris?"

"Do what?"

"You've been with us for six months- or so you say. But when I met you, two weeks ago, you were already directing the fights, and only the most highly ranked can do that. You must be something of a fighter."

"Not a fighter, John Cypher. A thinker."

Cody had never been bullied at school. It was a curious thing; a bully would probably have found him a prime target. To everyone but his brother he was sensitive, submissive and quick to forget a grudge, not to mention physically weak.

But somehow, as a curious side effect of living in his brother's shadow, he had been largely ignored.

Today was to be wholly different.

The school bell had rang four minutes ago, and Cody was just staggering out of the school gates, his arms full of Freidrich Nietzsche's "Twilight of the Idols" (which he considered an extraordinary read), which would not fit in his bag.

He turned left- and was pushed violently.

_Twilight of The Idols _burst from his hands and washed into the side of the road. He stumbled to regain his feet. Calloused hands grabbed his shirt collar and shoved him against the wall hard enough to bruise through his bag.

Drew's sneering face was an inch from his as he leaned in. "You gone too far this time, little boy." He bounced Cody's head on the wall. Cody struggled; Drew backhanded him viciously across the cheek but stopped him by his collar.

"Hey Drew, got a problem here?" Zack was there- suddenly there, as if from nowhere. Cody watched with relief and torment as Zack moved over and pushed the older boy off.

Zack's eyes had adopted a familiar, threatening glaze, and his posture was open defiance. Drew suddenly seemed small in comparison.

"Back off, Zack, this got nothing to do with you." Drew growled, attempting to brush him off.

"He's my twin brother. It's definitely my business. Now back. Off. Drew." Zack took a step forward; Drew a step back. But their eyes did not part.

Drew's own steely gaze was returning, but Zack was showing no sign of backing down.

_Oh God, _thought Cody_, they can't fight. Not here. Please don't fight. _

He grabbed his brother's sleeve and tried to drag him away; Zack brushed him off as though he wasn't there.

"Drew, you know what? I think I've had just about enough of you." Zack's words were barely audible, but they rang in Drew's- and Cody's ears. Both knew where it was going.

"Drew, you're going to meet me after school tomorrow, outside the Old Yew house. Think you can make it?"

"I can make it, Zack. Pray you can't."

Zack gave a contemptuous sneer.

For the fifteenth time to date, Drew had stood through one of the heads infinitely monotonous speeches on why "preciseness and punctuality were vital to a good social life."

Those were the only words of the half-hour ramble he could remember, as he stepped through the school gates fifteen seconds afterwards.

Chris was leaning against the wall, hands tucked in a blue denim jacket which contrasted horribly with his shirt. He straightened and walked alongside Drew as he passed.

"Did you get the challenge?"

"Yeh, I got it." He turned his eyes on the younger boy, "but I still don't like the idea of letting him win."

Chris wished he could tell him he would find he didn't have much choice, but he would soon find out once Zack started swinging his fists.

"I've fought just about every other fighting kid in this school- and I've never been beaten. Why should I let this blonde clone beat me?"

"Because I'm telling you too," Chris said simply, "What I say happens. Deal with it."

Drew knew he was right, but quietly considered ignoring him when the time came- he had enough influence to stay in the circle, and enough friends to get him back in if they had to.

Chris steered right and crossed the road abruptly.

"Where you going?" He shouted after him.

"Got a certain clone to talk to." He yelled back.

**End of Chapter 3. **

**R&R please. Anything you wanna say, say it (as long as it's relevant, of course...). **


	4. The wheel in motion

**Chapter 4, and this one's my first real fight scene. Tell me what you think! **

**Oh, and I wanted to update sooner, but something happened to my computer. I swear, if it isn't the crappiest thing in the world in comes in close second.**

**Disclaimer: It's been four chapters, but I still don't own Suite Life or the characters.**

Drew had been having second thoughts about the "plan" since the moment Chris had put it to him, but his resolve was hardening with every step towards Old Yew house he took.

Why in God's name should he let some blonde fourteen-year-old beat _him _in a fight? The very thought made him gag. He was the best fighter there was, plain and simple. He had a reputation to consider.

If he didn't know Chris could- and would- act on any disloyalty, he would have thrown the idea back in that ugly midget's face there and then.

9: 24, and the twins were walking to the Old Yew house (school had once again been deemed unimportant), and for the way Cody was acting, Zack could have believed he had made a mistake yesterday and accidentally put Cody in for the fight.

His brother was nervous, very nervous- which was ridiculous, considering Zack hadn't given his decision to fist-fight with the best in the school a second thought.

He finished his bar of stolen chocolate (he had to blot out a lecture on stealing form Cody every day) and screwed up the wrapper.

"Zack, you sure this is a good idea?" Only the tenth time he's asked, Zack considered. He didn't bother to reply.

"But seriously, Zack, you sure you can actually beat him? He's one and a half years older than you."

Now Zack had to reply; he couldn't let his skill be insulted. "Of course I can, idiot, I've taken worse than him." He landed a casual backhand to the ear, "besides, if he starts winning I've always got you to lecture him about morals and kindness and all that crap." He smirked. "or you can throw your blanket at him."

Cody finally shrivelled up. Silence. Zack tossed the empty wrapper over a fence and lit a cigarette.

Cody Martin felt more depressed now than he had been since Zack had first started- and that was saying something. Because now, the grim truth was blaringly obvious, Zack was not only dangerous, he was also arrogant. Arrogant enough to take on any opponent, even one who was perfectly capable of killing him.

The thought that he was missing a geography exam he had revised for every day for three weeks seemed like nothing in comparison. A year ago Cody would have walked through seven Hells to keep his grades up. Now he knew he had been wrong. How things changed.

Breathing ragged, Carey crouched down behind the low brick wall across the street from Old Yew House. A motley collection of boys had already gathered. She didn't need to find out why they were there.

She knew Zack hadn't gone to school that morning; she sincerely doubted that Cody had either. But it had been only that very morning, when informed by a polite lad from Zack's school named Chris, that she had found out what exactly had been happening. The truth was shocking.

She felt tears forming, but she ignored them; this was no time for softness; Zack and Cody would be here any time.

She had to see it for herself. Nothing but her own eyes would be able to convince here that her twin sons had become criminals and street fighters.

Drew was already waiting for him when he arrived. There were about twenty-five others there, a few Zack recognised. John walked up beside him as he stepped towards his opponent. No words were exchanged.

Cody wasn't with him. With much encouragement he had gone off reluctantly to talk to some kid named Chris; God only knew what that was about. Yet the name seemed vaguely familiar. His memory was not what it had been- that is to say, he had developed a tendency to forget anything he deemed inconsequential. So it couldn't be anything that mattered. Besides, the loss of his younger twin couldn't be anything but a blessing.

He stepped into the forming semi-circle of onlookers, before the gnarled gates. Drew looked positively blood-hungry. Slinging off his jacket he threw it to John. Two pairs of fists came up.

"I'm going to wipe your remains all over the pavement, blondie!"

Zack gave no response, but took a single step to the right. Drew stepped left, to keep them opposite each-other. 

"You're really sure you're ready for this?!"

Still no answer, and that agitated the older boy. He wasn't used to being ignored.

"I'm going to pound you so bad you're own momma won't recognise you." He adopted his trademark smirk, "and then everyone you know will laugh whenever they see your smashed face, 'cause they know: there's the idiot who tried to take on Drew."

Zack laughed.

With a roar of fury, Drew hurled himself into a straight right. Zack, changed to fighter in a heartbeat, pivoted on the spot. The blow sailed past him. Leaning back in, he eased his right foot under Drew's, and with a casual flick turned all of his opponents momentum against him, spinning him to the ground.

Furious at being floored so easily, Drew staggered up. Zack stood, not even in a stance. No mercy! He sure as hell wasn't losing to this guy!

Charging in, he threw an inept punch; Zack's left hand turned it away and the right thundered into his chin. Drew stumbled, only to be struck in the stomach by Zack's knee. He doubled over, and as he did Zack crashed his elbow into Drew's head, flooring him for a second time.

Drew could not believe it. The fight had been going ten seconds and he had been floored twice. Get yourself together, Drew! He couldn't lose here. He wouldn't! He struggled up.

Zack met his return with a fearsome right hook, the blow caught his eyebrow with a sickening impact. A left hook flew around his arms and glanced his head. Drew threw a straight right of his own, catching him full in the face, but Zack rolled with it deftly and struck a terrible blow which caught his cheek and split the skin.

In a rage Drew threw everything he had into blow after blow. Zack's hands came up again and again, but finally his blows broke through and he caught the blond twice in the jaw.

Zack fell back, finally giving ground. But Drew would not let him escape. Following up, he brought both arms down in a lethal axe handle. Zack was blasted onto one knee. Drew brought up his hands and hit him again. And again.

And then Zack made his move, launching up from the ground into a tackle which caught Drew around the waist and shoved him back against the gates. Drew took the full force with a sound like a train wreck, knocking the wind out of him. Zack, glaring with killer intent, brought back his fist and slammed it full on into Drew's face, crushing his nose; even as he recovered Zack's left crashed into him, then right, then left, filling his entire world with searing, grinding pain.

His shirt was grabbed. Zack dragged him into a terrific head-butt, then slammed his head back against the metal gates. There was a crack like a watermelon being hit with a shotgun. Drew was sure he was dead and gone to hell; he couldn't see for the blood in his eyes, or hear for the pounding. There was just an eternal ocean of pain, battering him in a constant tide.

It stopped abruptly. Drew idly wondered if God would forgive his crimes.

**End of chapter 4**

**Bit off a cliff-hanger there! I was going to keep gong with this chapter but** **it was already longer than the others so I decided to stop. Sorry for the abrupt ending. **


	5. Zack's fury

**So this is the next chapter. What do you want me to say? **

**This one leaves off immediately from the last chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Suite Life. It'd be different if I did. **

He had been grabbed. Two arms locked around him with fierce determination.

For a second, the whole world had frozen. John had darted into the rig and was dragging Drew away- away from him! The sight ignited him. He struggled. The grip held, but he had found a weak spot, which he immediately exploited, bringing his elbows down and out, striking the hips savagely. As his attacker keeled forward he wrapped his ankles around him expertly and sent him cascading backwards.

For a moment he didn't know where to look. But his friend- a friend he had _trusted- _was carrying away his opponent. He rounded on him without looking round.

"John, you bastard, put him back in the ring! We're not finished!"

John held his gaze "you damn near killed him, Zack."

"Nothing he wouldn't have done to me!" Zack's voice dropped menacingly, and his eyes were hell-bent "I made the challenge. We didn't put regulations to it. _I _choose when we're done!"

"The fight is over Zack."

"It isn't over."

In a rage, Zack took a step forward, and John's face, normally so stoic, betrayed a twitch of fear in the reflection of Zack's morbid eyes. That was enough to fully inundate him, fill him with nothing but rage.

Zack's vision was going red. A tremendous pulsing sounded in his ears. He took another step forward- he may have been screaming- and another.

"Zack!"

It hadn't been John. The voice had come from behind. It was a voice he knew too well, a voice which would forever be fully embedded in his skull. In essence, his voice.

He swivelled. The red cleared momentarily. Cody was on the ground, sitting up, staring into his eyes.

The gaze locked. Zack saw in Cody, in that split second, every depravation he had suffered at his twin brother's hands, and something else as well. A hint of defiance. It could have been righteous. But Zack did not believe in such a concept.

Cody swallowed. Silence. No-one moved. A ring of still, quiet onlookers, quiet as the grave.

"Well, aren't you gonna say something?" Zack sighed. There was no answer. He started to walk, stepping with deliberate contempt over his brother's still form, and wending through the throng which parted before him. And all the way, his rage did not lesson.

The ring of silent teenagers had not been the only witnesses to the day's events. There had been two others: one in horror, for she had seen the truth with her own eyes, and one in joy, for he had set the cogs grinding.

As soon as Cody got home, some half-hour later, Zack rounded on him, unleashing every bit of a struggling anger.

"I suppose that must have looked real funny back there." His voice was fearfully calm.

Cody, wearing a resigned expression, bowed his head and walked through the threshold.

Zack turned him roughly and fixed him with a terrifying glare. Cody opened his mouth momentarily, as if to say something, then closed it again and went back to walking.

"Ah, the silent treatment." Zack's stored fury was beginning to boil, scorching his insides. It took every ounce of his will to hold his fists back from his brothers fragile outline.

Cody slumped down on the couch. He could have been crying, but to Zack the very action seemed an insult. He hadn't even noticed his vision was red again. The pulse was low in his ears like a distant drum beat.

He forced himself to walk towards the bedroom door. Something rubbed against his skin beneath his shirt. A gun holster. He could draw it now. The though was strangely majestic, the image distinctive. In a second, he could rip off his shirt, draw the gone and take the life of his brother.

_You hate him, _his mind whispered_ you know you hate him. Kill him. Kill him. _

_I'm angry, _he screamed at himself. _Yours is a quite anger. You've always hated him! Kill him! _

_It's illegal! _

_What do you care for the law! _

_He's my brother! Shut up, don't tell me this! _

_Kill him! Kill him! _

He was panting. The sounds were almost words. _Kill him now! Do it! _

Everything was red. A seething pulsing red. He daren't look back. Cody would die! The thought was abhorrent. Thinking was abhorrent! All he could think was of the image of his brother's body, and the same words _Kill him, Kill him, _ascending from the furthest depths of his mind. _Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. _

The gun was so damn close! He could draw it. He had to draw it!

And then he was there. He slammed the bathroom door with a sickening thud, working the lock with trembling fingers.

The thoughts were gone, leaving only the deep, bloody red, and the loathsome pulsing. It flooded every fibre of him. He could barely see. He staggered. And kicked out. A tile on the wall cracked under the impact. Bringing up both his hands he swept them down. The cold tap, burst from its mount under the impact, skittering to a halt in the basin with a metallic ringing.

But he heard a different sound- the sound of crunching bone, as his hands met with his twin's skull.

He wasn't sure how long he leaned against the sink, but a viscous film of water had formed over the floor from the broken tap, when he turned to leave.

His anger was momentarily quelled. There was no red. No pulsing. But he knew that spark of pure, unfocused rage remained at the heart of him.

His brother was still on the couch- it didn't matter why, or whether he had moved. That was immaterial, for with the fixing of their eyes, and Zack's slightest nod of the head, they both knew.

Knew where they would be at school time, the following day.

**End of Chapter 4 **

**Everyone, keep reviewing. I need to know there's someone out there still reading to keep going. **

**I'm getting really into this story myself now- all my planned chapters keep turning out too long (I'm trying to keep each chapter about 1000 words). **


	6. Build Up

**Okay, for all those who have been following this story****, I am so sorry for not updating****. No seriously, I mean it. My internet is going haywire, BT are sodding me off over the phone, and my computer is doing everything it can to just be annoying. Still, better late than never. This one'll be quick because if I try writing anything long my computer crashes and I lose it. **

**On with the show! And to all you Cody lovers out there, the next chapter is gonna hurt... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Suite Life or its characters, only this storyline. **

Zack was not a smart person- not like his brother anyway. He had never got better than average grades at school; Cody's had never been less than excellent, and in a strange way that had always infuriated him.

He could lie, and cheat, and steal, without remorse, a feat his brother had never really attempted except under his guidance.

He had never been a greatly moral person either. But he had always prided himself on two things: firstly, he never lied to himself, and secondly, he didn't steal from his friends.

Until now.

He had broken his own commandments. Over six months, he had watched his brother's life slip into his shadow- a world of misery, silence and defeat. In all he did, he was slowly sapping his brother's life, and tomorrow, it seemed, he would take it for good. And he had never admitted it to himself.

That was a thought that would hang from his shoulders, forever. A force nothing could live. He was not used to it.

John was certainly not happy. Neither was Chris.

Drew sagged against the wall of the old house, groaning, coughing, barely moving; through shattered spirit, John expected. He had seen it before. He hated it.

"What was that?" he asked, rounding on Chris.

"What was what?"

"_That._" John's eyes narrowed. He couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "That fight. You organised it didn't you? You knew what would happen. Why didn't you tell me?"

Chris' face took on a solemn expression. "I'm afraid it was necessary." He looked genuinely hurt. John didn't buy it.

"Necessary." He could barely believe this. "It was _necessary_ to get Drew beaten to a bloody pulp, _and _to get Zack to turn on his brother. You're a sick person."

Chris' expression became strangely hard. John hadn't thought a boy his age could look so menacing, almost maniacal. He hesitated, and Chris grabbed the opportunity.

"You _questioning_ me? I'm the thinker here John, not you. Everyone knows you're thick. You leave this to me."

"No! This has gone way too far."

John took a step forward, leaving inches between them.

Drew's one good eye had came up at the raised voices. He gave a little, indecipherable groan.

The intensity held. Chris held John's steely gaze with soft but stubborn eyes. His right hand was in his jeans pocket.

"This has gone too far," John, repeated, "I'm stopping-"

Chris' hand sprung out... with a knife!

John had time only to blink before it plunged into him. Blood oozed out his stomach like red velvet; he groaned painfully.

Chris stabbed him twice more, dropping him to his knees. His mind was a sea of blackness; he coughed a little blood. He had no idea where he was as he keeled over.

"An unfortunate necessity," someone above him whispered.

The last he saw was Drew's instantly recognisable, stolen trainers. Yes, was his last fluttering thought, I must have been helping Zack to fight his opponent...

Cody's day had gone by in a dream. In fact, he considered, six months had done so. One long, endless expanse of surrealism, and now it climaxed. The ironic thing was, the last evening and morning had been the first like he had remembered them. After their exchange, Zack had sat next to him on the couch, watching TV, saying nothing, not hostile, just tolerant. And they had slept in the same room, and he had listened to his brother's steady breathing.

And in the morning, they had dressed in the same room, and packed their bags- knowing they would not be at school- and sat at the same table to eat breakfast. And know they walked together towards the bus stop he knew they would soon veer away from. Soon they would be outside the Old Yew House, and then... God knows what. Grey clouds hung threateningly overhead, seeming barely suspended. A single drop of rain hit his forehead. As it ran down his cheek, it could easily have been a tear.


	7. Hatred

**If this took a while to write, I blame it on this being quite an emotional chapter (at least, it was supposed to be...), and I was having trouble figuring out how to organise it. **

**Also, I'm a little confused... **

**Over the last few chapters I've had a ton of "story alert" and "favourite story" e-mail alerts (I must be doing something right), but far fewer reviews, which means either the same people are doing it over and over to make me feel better, or some people aren't reviewing! **

**C'mon guys, more reviews! **

No remorse. No guilt. No redemption.

Nothing.

No feeling. No emotion. Not a single thought.

Zack had never felt so ready, so focused, so furiously invigorated.

He knew he had been wrong. He had broken only one commandment.

Cody was not a friend- merely a brother, whom he had never chosen, nor even truly accepted. It was time for judgement. He would find out where the two of them stood, who they were; and his own reflection would be purified.

Such were his thoughts. To steal form a friend was one thing. This was quite another, a deeper feeling than he had reason to argue against. All his anger, his vexation, his sheer _contempt _had been focused into this one point in time, outside the Old Yew house.

The rain was beating steadily, churning the dark earth of the house's wild gardens, soaking clothes and hair, penetrating the cracks in the worn pavement, before the wrought iron gates, streaked with recently spilled blood.

But it had not held back the crowds, nor the focus of a lifetime of hatred. The red mist was gathering. The drumming. He could not turn back.

The first blow was met with voracious uproar. Zack's fist found flesh and came back red. Cody staggered and gasped- Zack's knee swept up, doubling him over before following with a vicious backhand, dropping Cody to hands and knees.

Zack had begun to pace.

"Get up Cody. The fight won't end from the floor. Get up!"

With a barely audible whimper, Cody forced his limbs under him and crawled up. Zack rushed in, feinting left then crashing his fist in a right hook. Cody, his defences in completely the wrong place, was hit on the very spot of the cut to his jaw inflicted by the first blow. He shrieked unintentionally as he fell back- the crowd rang with mocking jeers. Zack didn't laugh, though. His face was without a trace of humanity.

Barely noticeable amongst the crowd and whipping rain, Chris laughed as he chewed his numb knuckles. He struck with such fury, such unbridled power! Soon he would harness it; he had only to remove the brother.

"Fight back!"

Cody swung an inept punch; Zack's hand brushed it aside and thundered into his stomach, followed by a second knee shot that split his eyebrow.

The ground was beneath him, strangely inviting. He could almost fall, but Zack would not allow it. The wind-driven rain lashed his cuts. He squeezed his eyes shut but a tear escaped.

For a moment, he forgot everything; what had happened, why he was there, what he was doing.

Who he was fighting.

Zack's foot caught him in the side. He fell on his back. Another tear. He was being kicked. Another.

He never knew how long he cried, or how long Zack beat him, only that every second to him was a generation of torment and suffering. He considered every possible viewpoint, as the blows as the rain poured in, every ounce of fact and rumour, but he never understood why his brother hated him so.

And that was more painful than any punch could ever be.

Neither twin ever remembered when it ended. Zack's unstoppable rage had erased all sense of everything, save his one goal, and Cody could picture only a sea of endless, overlapping pain.

Yet end it did.

But it may not have done, had it not been for a single courageous character. Zack later reasoned that he should have anticipated it.

**End of Chapter 7**

**Didn't write a footnote for the last chapter: don't know why, but I got better things to do than change it. Tell me how good you think that was... I thought it was almost emotionally detached at one point. Everybody R&R please. **


	8. Intervention to realisation

**I've reached chapter 8 now, and this story will soon be reaching a climax- I'm guessing I'll go up to chapter 9, and chapter 10 will be an epilogue. **

**Disclaimer: Even though I'm nearly finished, I still don't own the Suite Life. **

It was their mother- Carey Martin.

In the time it had taken her to walk, slowly, purposely through the crowd, and to step between them, Zack had re-experienced every second of the last six-months in a wave of sickening kaleidoscopic morbidity.

He stood there, pale, oblivious to the pounding rain, stiff and still as a stone statue, taking in with painful slowness exactly what was happening.

It was exactly as it had always been.

He was there- tall, mocking, invincible.

His brother, on hands and knees, bruised and bleeding, weak, fragile, defeated.

And Carey, between them as it had always seemed to be, stopping him, holding back what pranks she could, controlling his feral side. Ensuring that Cody always managed to stand back up, bruised and bleeding but alive.

But it had been a lost cause- he could go against his mother's defence, again and again, and lose every time. He had had to win only once.

And now he had.

He had fought through, found his inner strength of character, and finally earned the respect and admiration he knew he deserved.

Only know, all that Carey had struggled to prevent so loyally, without complaint, was for real.

All that it seemed she had _known _he would one day bring about had happened. He had changed his very self, his entire _being _to that smaller side of him that had always wanted _control_.

Now he had control, and this was the price. That all who knew and cared for him, that stood by him no matter what he should do, it was they who suffered!

There was Cody, bruised and beaten and broken, in more ways than Zack could imagine, and Carey, his mom, whom he had always respected, who's hand he had _forced_ into action, for better or worse. For the sake of her son.

The thoughts assailed him one after another, an endless barrage, and by the time he was sure he could be no more struck, the very first anguish would assail him again.

The red mist, that had been so striking, was gone in an instant. The world was painted a new type of metallic textures. No throbbing, no relentless drumming.

No noise, in-fact, not a single sound. Just the rain.

He was gone before the crowd had realised, pushing between them with a new sort of silent fury. Fury at himself.

And Carey breathed a sigh of relief and helped her son up.

With exception to them, only one other had fully comprehended those brief moments, and he was more than displeased.

All he had worked to flashed before his eyes in seconds; it hung by a mere thread. He would have to move quickly, and _efficiently_, if he were still to succeed.

**End of Chapter 8 **

**A quick chapter ****again, ****I know... sorry about that. I was aiming for about 1000 words per chapter, but time and homework and this computer are making that increasingly difficult to keep up. However, I'm going to aim to update much more frequently for the last chapters. No promises though. **


	9. Endgame

**Chapter I've reached the penultimate chapter. 10 will be an epilogue and if I don't publish it at the same time as this it'll be the next day; otherwise I'll eat my hat. I've tried to make this one a bit of a "heart to heart" while still keeping in the style of the story. I'm hoping it's ok! **

**Oh yeah, this is gonna be a pretty long chapter too. **

**Finally, a reply to anyone who thought it was a little strange that Carey intervened. I agree. Perhaps it was quite funny, but she had already appeared in the story so I thought it would look quite funny if she was just never seen again. Secondly, she is their mother (and shown in the series to be fiercely loyal), so I didn't think she'd just sit around once it reached that sort of point. **

**Sorry for the long opening. On with the story before you get bored (unless, of course, you find the story boring too...). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Suite Life. **

Zack needed to think. It didn't happen often that he had something he wanted to consider- he had become renowned for making snap decisions.

But this was different. Different in an unexplainably powerful way. He wasn't sure thinking was even the answer. He could never seem to come to the right decision.

Head bowed, walking slowly, he passed between the small terraced houses. The street seemed strangely grittier than it ever had before. The small houses appeared to be leaning together, as though they also had sought shelter from the driving rain, and not fully returned to their original position.

"Let go! I've got to go back!"

Carey was incredulous. This was impossible. How could Cody be so different?

It seemed for his whole life he had been trying to escape Zack's sphere of influence, and in six months that had become infinitely truer. But now, it appeared, that was exactly where he wanted to return.

And after he had had _this_ done to him. This must be a dream, or a hallucination from fatigue; there is no way this could happen.

He had shouted that he needed to go back with every step; she had almost had to drag him. But he was stubborn on the point- clearly nothing would change his mind.

What else could she do?

He was gone the moment she took her hand away from his.

It was not a large park, or a particularly pleasant one. But somehow, the feeling of it gave him the slightest puncture through the fog of misery and gloom, which clouded his thoughts.

The rain had stopped; the autumnal trees dripped with it, glistening in the rising sun. The grass was littered with tiny pearls. He stopped by the lake. Like the park, it was not a large one; barely even worthy of recognition as a lake, but still granted the title. He leaned against the guardrail and tried to focus his thoughts in the silence. There was no-one around. Most people were either at work or school. As he should be.

Taking out a cigarette, he lit it and put it to his lips. The taste was inexplicable foul on his tongue, and the smoke was nauseating. He tossed hard into the lake, and just stood. Arms on the rail, looking out as though at sea.

He stood like that for a very long time.

"Hi." The voice was quiet and choky, but so unexpected that Zack jumped visibly. He looked round.

His mild surprise drained away when Cody came and stood next to him. His arms felt heavy.

How different he looked with cuts! That was Zack's first thought, of the shallow cuts to his face, many of which had only just congealed. Then he remembered who had inflicted them, and how.

With sick dread he realised he had never released himself more fully, never struck more forcefully, than he had in that fight. Against an opponent who didn't stand a chance.

Cody swallowed. He looked uncomfortable. "Zack. Zack?" He held his breath a few seconds, as if awaiting permission. "Zack, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have intervened in your fight. And sorry..." He swallowed again, looking totally dejected "sorry for always being such a wimp, and dragging you down."

Zack closed his eyes. This could not be real. That Cody could do this was not only unexpected, it was also unfair. His thoughts whirled about everywhere, striking him mute. He forced himself to think of a single straight line, to block out all other questions and answers, to reject everything. And to answer. Cody waited as though at a funeral.

"Cody, I'm sorry too. For everything. I... I don't know what happened." He stopped, unable to go on, before admitting the obvious "you don't have to forgive me. I'll try not to blame you if you don't. It was my fault."

"Hey, it's ok, I forgive." Cody edged a little closer. His eyes were sparkling with tears.

"It's just, it's been crazy. Everything's been insane. I just..." He couldn't explain it, and wondered if he ever could have. " I lost myself. I don't know what happened."

"No, me neither." Cody gave the slightest hint of a forced smile. "But I'll forgive you anyway. We can sort it out."

"Especially this last week. It's been like someone's been conspiring against us, trying to wedge a crowbar between us. I can't understand it."

"It's fine."

A moment's quiet.

"Is it over then? We're friends again... just like that?"

"Yeh."

"Sorry about all those blows..."

"They'll heal."

"Great." Zack choked on his own voice, his attempt to appear stoic a failure. "Can we stop talking now?"

"Sure."

Cody edged that little bit closer, so their arms just touched, and that's how they stayed for over an hour. At some point Cody started to cry, slowly and weakly. Zack may have been crying too, but he could not place himself.

Yet he did discover one thing after all, through his mind's raging tempest. A grain of thought he would forever remember.

He was the weaker twin.

After however much time it really had been, they stood apart, and Zack knew, Cody had discovered something as well.

"Zack, you know you said something, about someone conspiring against us?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"I know you weren't being literal, but I think you were right. Do you know a boy, about two years younger than us? His name was Chris."

The picture of a curly blond hair and an ugly smile assailed Zack through all his thoughts.

Zack knew where Chris would be. He wasn't at the Old Yew house, he had double-checked, and he certainly wasn't at school. So there was only one place he could be, a place Zack had come to know almost by heart. The arena...

Zack was moving with incredible, and increasing speed. Cody was having trouble keeping up.

In fact, he was only half aware of what had happened. Everything had been so sudden, and indescribably unpredicted. How his brother could change so quickly somehow put him on edge.

Largely because he knew, in his soul, Zack hadn't changed. He had changed _his acting_. That's what Zack was, an actor. He could change his mood, his attitude, his personality, with remarkable speed, but to an extent it was only acting.

Cody didn't hate him for that; he knew Zack had know choice but to be this way, and that when he acted it was because he considered it the best imitation he could be. But still, the knowledge that his brother had not actually lost, just suppressed his feral strength, his inner ferocity, was nerve-racking. The newfound knowledge that it had always been there, and always would be, was even more so.

And now he felt things building to an endgame. If Zack had to release that inward fury ever again, it would be now.

But he had only seconds to consider all this, for Zack was almost jogging through the damp and dripping tunnels, moving recklessly through the dim, orange light.

He stumbled to keep up. Zack turned abruptly left.

A whirl of events flashed by in the shortest second: the turn of the tunnel, the huge form before him, a coppery flash of light on cold metal.

The knife lanced out, missing his face by a hair's breadth.

He stepped back, his attacker forward with a vicious stomach thrust. Zack bent back his hips and partially deflected with his arms, moving back almost at a run. But the wicked steel kept up with him however fast he moved. Again it thrust; again he rolled his hips and deflected with his arms.

Then... his back hit concrete. The assailant was immediately upon him.

Zack panicked and moved left- his huge attacker grabbed his shirt and dragged him back. For an instant he glimpsed Drew's hideously mangled face, the barely recognisable sneer, before the six-inch blade filled his vision.

The cruel edge faltered, then blinked out his line of sight.

Drew had staggered. A second blow landed. He rounded clumsily left.

All of Zack's fighting instinct flooded back to him in one, immeasurable moment. Leaping off the wall he pounced into a ferocious tackle, crashing his opponent to the ground. There was a fearful crunch, like a watermelon under a sledgehammer.

Silence.

Zack got to his feet, realising in a blood-curdling instant that he had nearly died then. He forced himself to be calm. There would be time later. He couldn't let human nature dominate his animalistic side just yet.

"Thanks Cody. Nice punch. Why didn't you use any of that against me?"

Cody smiled but didn't say anything as he sucked his knuckles, one of which had cut a little. Finally he stopped, looking a little pale. His eyes turned to the unconscious Drew.

"Is he... dead? He hit the floor pretty hard."

"Don't expect so. He survived worse from me." Zack leaned down to feel for a pulse. "No," he announced finally, "he'll live."

Cody nodded. Zack was off again before his head had came back up.

The room contained a single chair, the walls were not painted, the floor was not covered. But Chris sat in the chair, head bowed over his lap, hands cradling something just impossible to make out.

Zack entered through the threshold of the open door, Cody came and stood beside him. Chris did not give any indication he knew they were there, but as Zack was about to speak, he interrupted,

"You failed me Zack. You failed all of us here. You could have been so great. You could have earned such respect-"

"I've decided I don't want that, Chris. I'll earn respect in other ways."

"You can't turn us on one another anymore," Cody added passionately.

Chris' eyes came up; the sight was chilling to the very core. He didn't even appear human.

"You could still have it, Zack. You don't know what you're rejecting."

"Yes, I do. I'm rejecting you, Chris, and all of this. You won't seem me here again."

"No. I won't!"

Chris right hand came up- he had a gun! - as he sprang to his feet, kicking the chair over. The air was filed with a deafening blast that also cracked like a whip.

Zack leapt right, towards the door, Cody left.

The gun swung around in a single second with deadly slow motion until Cody was down the barrel.

"_Yes! Now die!" _Chris screamed.

There was a second crack, accompanied by the same fearful whip. But Chris' gun had not fired.

Zack stood in the threshold, his gun drawn, eyes locked.

And so marked the end of Zack's reign in "the circle."

**End of Chapter 9 **

**This ending was rather abrupt, but I'm wrapping it all up in the epilogue (which I promise to publish tomorrow) so it seemed like the best option. **

**This story also marks the end of my second fanfiction. **

**Can I beg for nice long reviews for the final chapter! You needn't review for the epilogue.**


	10. Epilogue

**Final chapter, posted at the promised time. Hope this wraps things up sufficiently. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Suite Life of Zack and Cody.**

So Zack's reign in the circle came to an abrupt halt with the death of the scheming Chris. Even though Zack showed little remorse at the time, he never fully recovered from the trauma of killing another man. He was intended as a fighter, maybe, but not as a killer. Cody had not inflicted the deathblow, but on this topic the twins forever shared nightmares.

Another thing that pained Zack was the disappearance of John Cypher, for whom he had had a great deal of respect. He never saw him, nor even heard of again. If he had known that Chris was the culprit, he mightn't have felt such guilt. Or maybe he would have, it is impossible to say.

Drew moved schools almost immediately after Chris' death. He and Cody would meet one day in their thirties, but neither recognised the other.

Apart from these, life returned to a reflection of what it had once been. Cody's grades steadily improved again as they attended school more regularly, but to the casual eye, apart from the tiny scars on both the twin's faces, little had changed. Those six months could never have happened.

But things had changed. Zack accepted Cody's presence: he would have liked to be able to be so much closer, but a void seemed to have grown to separate them, and he knew from the beginning they could never cross it. Carey continued to look after them at the hotel, but there was always a slight undercurrent of tension, and Carey could not remove it.

Chris' body was found three days later. Despite being semi-rotted, an extensive autopsy (which failed to reveal the killer) presented traces of slow-working terminal brain cancer, which would have begun about six months previously. How much had this affected his judgement? Even his parents admitted it wasn't clear; he had always been a thinker.

**End of Epilogue **

**That chapter was pretty vague, I know, but I was only rounding off and didn't see any need for anything dramatic. Like I said, you don't really need to review for this chapter. **

**And I just remembered... I've completed my second fanfiction. Hooray! What, have a break? Stop for a bit? Are you kidding... **


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